


Doll

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22444975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Hank and Connor work.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	Doll

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

There are no androids involved. There hasn’t been an incident in over a week. Connor’s working the case with him anyway, because every time Connor’s out of Hank’s sight for too long, Hank gets nervous that he’s going to come back with different serial numbers on his jacket and a different glint in his eye. So Hank lies and says he needs the help, when really, he expects to wrap the case up by noon.

They already have a solid suspect and plenty of leads. They don’t need to interview every owner of every shop that was potentially hit on the dingy, rundown street, but they do, because Connor likes to be thorough and Hank’s actually trying to make the case last—when it’s over, Connor goes back to CyberLife or wherever it is he resides in between cases. Maybe it’d be easier if Hank just took Connor home with him, but then he’d have to admit he _wants that_ , and Hank’s not quite there yet. He interviews the teenager girl behind the register of a thrift shop, even though she probably didn’t see anything. 

She predictably didn’t. She talks Hank’s ear off anyway, because clearly a chat with the police is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to her. Hank indulges that while he watches Connor out the corner of his eye. Connor must deem the girl one hundred percent unimportant, because he’s not even looking at her. Instead, he’s blinking curiously at a dusty brown teddy bear sitting atop a moldy bookshelf. There’s something about the look on Connor’s handsome face that’s just so _innocent_ and endearing. Sometimes Hank remembers that almost _everything_ is new for Connor; that he has the maturity, the intellect of an adult, but the inexperience of someone brand new to the world. He rarely shows it, but it’s there. He understands everything and yet _understands_ so little. He must know what teddy bears _are_ , but he’s probably never cuddled one. Maybe he wants to.

Maybe Hank’s projecting. But Connor’s clear fascination is adorable, no matter the reason. When the girl finally stops talking, Hank jabs his finger at the bear and randomly barks, “How much?”

“Oh?” She looks back, picks it up, turns it over a few times, then hums, “Five dollars?” She’s probably just making up a price. It’s probably supposed to be less than that. Its left eye looks loose, but given Connor’s plethora of skills, he can probably sew it back up again. Hank fishes out a five and thrusts it over.

“Thank you, officer!” The girl rings it up and proudly hands the bear over, as though she’s served her whole city by completing his purchase. It’s kind of annoying, and also kind of sweet—a sign of _life_ that android salesmen just can’t replicate. Hank’s coming around on androids anyway. He hands the bear straight to Connor.

He half expects Connor to reject it. Surely Connor’s going to say the bear has no bearing on their case, and an android has no use to any possessions, much less stuffed animals. 

But Connor accepts the bear with wide eyes. He swiftly melts into a smile and holds it close against his chest, telling Hank, “Thank you.”


End file.
